"I Am Lovable"

Oh, yeah... so this is the latest thing we're trying at therapy. Doc wants me to start with affirmations in an attempt to rewire my brain. I hate myself, have for some time, and her idea is to use affirmations to get my brain to rethink.

The brain has neural pathways. Over time, these pathways become well worn and easy for synapses to fire and connect. The problem comes when these pathways are making negative connections-- "I hate myself", "I'm no good", "I'm useless," etc. Pathways can become highways, expressways, or the Autobahn! Muscle memory is really neurological memory, the pathway is extremely well worn.

In the case of negative thinking, the path from something said or done to the thought of "I suck, etc" is well worn. In my case, as with many who have depression and other mental illnesses, its like riding a motorcycle flat out with no traffic on an empty highway!

The point of affirmations is to change the neurology of the brain. Instead of saying "I hate myself" I have to say "I am lovable" and mean it. This starts to slowly make a new path in the brain. At the moment... this just sounds stupid and corny! For the reason that it sounds stupid, my therapist wants me to repeat it. She showed me a collection of cards she has with affirmations on them. No lie... they have unicorns on them.

Self Hate vs Self Love

Self love always sounds so foreign to me. I try. I try to do little things to care for myself, but it always seems so selfish and hypocritical. How can I take myself out to a coffee shop when I really hate myself?

I've lived most of my life thinking that the only important thing to be was smart. That is measurable, you can take a test and prove that you have a certain level of intelligence. Pretty? Talented? Whatever. Everything I do comes out wrong. Everything I say seems to come out worse! I just really do not like myself and its so hard to change my mind.

There's a song by Blue October called "Hate Me". Part of the lyric mentions 'suicidal hate'. I so understand that feeling, and I really wish I didn't.  My friends keep trying to change my mind, to convince me that I'm worthy of love, of care, of loving myself. Really I just hate looking in the mirror.

If any one of my friends were to talk about themselves the way I talk about myself, I'd do my best to put a stop to it, to remind them of how great they are, to love them. And they do the same with me... I'm just so far away that I can't hear it anymore, if I ever did.

Borderline Suicidal

This is a phrase I use for myself, it doesn't appear in any text books or therapists guides or whatever else one could use for reference. It's simple, really, as a concept. It means that I have thoughts of suicide floating around in my blasted head, but I lack the other two elements that would concern Dr B, namely a plan and intent. I can think about dying, being dead, even the act of killing myself all I want, but since I lack a real plan and I really don't have any intention of topping myself there's not much to worry about, also not much anyone can do about it.

Thoughts are not actions. At least, not today.

I've had plans before, some rather elaborate. Of course, I've never done anything about it. In all my years, all 35 of them, I've never once actually attempted to kill myself. I have injured more times than I care to count, but that's not a suicidal act for me, its a way to live. Cut here, burn there, and I feel... better. Its hard to describe, but it helps.

I bought a punching bag a few months back, that helps too. Releases endorphins and its a form of injury that I can easily explain. Bruised knuckles? "Punching bag". And its not a lie. Most of the time, I wrap my hands properly and use gels. Sometimes I won't use the gels for a while, a round or two, then I'll put the gels on. Those are the days I need the pain. Today was one of those days. Spent 30 minutes on the bag, about 10 without the gels. And I'm feeling it, but I feel I deserve it.

Better bruised hands than dead, right? 

UpDate

I've been focusing on my old school, long hand journal. It's become a bullet journal this past year as well as a brain dump of sorts and I'm rather pleased with the results. I keep track of my migraines, moods, self harming type and frequency, gratidudes, even a calendar. So really it has all kinds of things going on and I rather like that. Plus I can sustomize as I see fit.

I've been trying essential oils lately for the headaches and my moods. They help some, and anything is better than nothing at all. I've been borderline suicidal for months now. I just keep pushing that line, how close can I get? I've come up with all kinds of ways to die. I'm done, really, just fed up with trying to do it all and make everyone happy. I'm tired. Why do I have to keep trying to survive? Why do I have to?

I see my therapist on Tuesday. I'll have to tell her how I'm feeling, of course. And I see my GP next week and that may mean I have to change meds. I've been on zoloft for several years, and slowly had to up the dose. May be time to switch? May be time to up the dose? May be time to just say "screw it"?

Been a Year

Woah, been over a year since my last post. I'm still in therapy, still battling depression, though the PTSD rears its ugly head less often, the meds seem to be helping. I'm still on sprintek and I've started zoloft in the past year, which also seems to be helping.

I've been pulling away from Katie lately. She's flighty, scattered, and only seems to want me around when she needs me for something, like driving a long distance. I've tried talking to her and she always says that I'm reading too much into something. Doesn't seem fair, I work my butt off to allow myself to trust enough for a friendship and this happens?

Honestly, it seems that no one really wants me, I'm just there for convenience. I mean, out side of work, I don't have a life. Certainly no real time for a social life. The little time I do have is wasted when people change plans last minute on me. I gave up making plans with Katie. Its an exercise in futility.

Dear Depression,

I really am getting sick of your presence in my life. You offer no help or comfort in this pained world in which I find myself. Often you detract from what little joy I can scrape together. Colours aren't as bright. Smiles aren't as cheerful. You cause me to lie to people who care about me. "I'm fine" is the biggest of these lies.

Why are you even here? I know I didn't invite you, so what gives? Party crasher! What's worse is that I know I'll never be rid of you. I may be able to battle you into a corner for a time, but you just won't leave! Get the clue. I want  you gone, evicted from my life, from my brain. Every aspect of my life has been sullied by your existence. Between you and Self-Harm, my life seems to no longer be mine, if it ever was.

You are horrid! I rather hate you and wish you would just go away. You won't though, damned interloper! You're going to crowd my skull for the rest of my life.

-Me

Worthless

Any one that actually reads this is going to think I keeled over or something...


So the last few months haven't been bad, really. I've been busy with work and by the time I get in I'm so knackered its pointless to write anything. Went from a butt-crack o'dawn job off-loading trucks to working evenings cleaning other people's offices. The other night there was a pair of men's knickers in a waste bin. I really DO NOT want to know the story behind that, seriously.

I went a grand total of 80 days without harming, so there was a plus. I can't remember what triggered me to break the streak but it did and here we are. As of today its been 2 weeks since my last injury.

I'm feeling ignored, worthless. I figured out why its so hard for me to believe that Doc cares a plug nickle for me. I don't feel I deserve it. I haven't earned it, not really. I care for the people that I do because I feel they deserve the love and protection that I give them freely. I don't feel that I'm worth it. I suppose that's why It always confuses me when people worry about me.

Its funny, tell a person who feels like this that they have value... and they won't believe you.